


Snowbound

by hallowed-vessels (hasbeenhotel)



Category: Subnautica (Video Game), Subnautica: below zero (video game)
Genre: Gen, angry tired vodka aunt accidentally adopts a furball of death, dogbart aka preston, more may be added idk, that’s it that’s the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hasbeenhotel/pseuds/hallowed-vessels
Summary: “After weeks without human comfort, it is normal to experience psychological discomfort. Research indicates symptoms may be partially alleviated by adopting a pet, or anthropomorphizing an inanimate object.”
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Snowbound

Marguerit took a second to breathe as the snow stalker collapsed, its body going stiff as its yellow blood seeped out of the gashes on its neck and stained the snow. She drove the knife into the snow, wiping off a little of the blood before she tucked it away.

She crossed her arms and stared at the dead creature. She was gonna have to drag it all the way back to her little cave. She really should have planned this out better, the day was already mostly over, and she was tired. Not to mention the nasty windchill ripping all the warmth from her.

She sighed and circled it, looking for the best place to get a good grip. If only she had rope. And some sort of sled.

No time to waste, she told herself, getting a hold of the spike on top of its head, and she began the arduous task of dragging it through the snow. She barely made it a few meters before something tugged backward on the dead snow stalker.

Huffing in annoyance, Marguerit turned around to find the culprit.

A tiny snow stalker blinked up at her with huge, amber eyes, its dead parent’s fur in its mouth.

“Shoo.”

Its tail thumped against the ground.

“Come on.” She nudged it with her boot. “I’m letting you live. Get moving.”

It pawed at her boot, continuing to give her the cutest stare she’d ever seen on an animal.

“No, this one’s mine now.” She gestured at the dead snow stalker. “Sorry if that was your mom or whatever, but you’re old enough to survive on your own. Shoo. Go... catch a fish, or whatever it is you do.”

It wandered away a little bit, though it kept its eyes on her.

She ignored it and started to drag the snow stalker again. Little paws padded after her. Marguerit gritted her teeth and whirled around on the pup. “Get lost, or else you’ll be dinner!”

The pup stood up on its hind legs, and took two toddling steps forward before going back down on all fours. It fixed her with a goofy grin, tongue lolling out to the side.

Hopefully it’d lose interest. She didn’t particularly have anything to gain from a baby snow stalker. The adult one meant a warm pelt, plenty of food, sharp teeth and spines for crafting weapons. The baby one was, well, significantly less interesting to her. She resumed the trek for the third time.

Little paws continued to squish down the snow kicked up in her wake.

She moved as fast as she could, and refused to pay it any attention.

By the time she’d made it back to the little crevice she'd turned into her shelter, the two moons were high in the sky, and she was too exhausted to even give a thought to the little creature still tailing along behind her. Marguerit sighed in relief, thankful that the fire was miraculously still going- she was starting to run low on the repair tool’s battery, and with no way to craft or recharge one, she’d be out of a heat source soon.

She sat down on the rocks and held her hands over the fire, waiting for some semblance of feeling to come back to them before she got to work on butchering the dead snow stalker.

The baby one curled up by the fire and closed its eyes, serene and peaceful in comparison to the corpse.

Marguerit continued to ignore it. She got her knife out, and began to separate the animal’s hide from its flesh. It had better make for as warm of a coat as she had theorized it would, or she was going scream.

She spread it out on the ground once she’d gotten it all pulled away, then started to work on the meat.

Every scrap of the creature would be put to use. The fat for the fires, the meat for food, the bones for weapons and structures. When a scrap was too small to be of use to her, she tossed it to the little snow stalker. It scarfed them all down without complaint.

By the time it was all done and neatly squared away, the sun had come up again.

Marguerit turned the hide over and laid on the floor, exhausted and aching from all her work. The little creature came and nuzzled her, pressing itself against her and curling up against her stomach.

“Alright, you can stay until I wake up.” She mumbled. “But if you eat me while I sleep, I’m gonna be real disappointed.”

She didn’t have the heart to chase it away in the morning, and gave it one more day. One day turned into two, two days turned into a week, then a month, and soon enough she had accepted that there was no getting rid of the snow stalker.

It reminded her of Bart. They had the same curiosity, the same unwavering trust in her that left her baffled. She wanted to name it after him, and for a while it was Dog-Bart in her head, but she could never quite get herself to say the name out loud.

So she settled for the first random name she could think of.

Preston seemed quite happy with it.


End file.
